


Right Now

by honeypuffed



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypuffed/pseuds/honeypuffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are good ideas. There are also showers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Now

Dick is holding his hand. Tim isn’t even really sure when this happened.

He’s sitting on the kitchen counter, grinning like he hasn’t a care in the world, like he hasn’t had a chance to smile in years, and Dick is just standing there in front of him, twining their fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of Tim’s hand. It’s not like Dick’s hands are particularly smooth, but Tim comes to the weird realisation that he prefers it this way — maybe just in this moment or maybe always, he can’t say for sure. But it isn’t important. There are more pressing matters at hand. Like, for instance, Tim really wants to watch a movie.

“It’s nearly 4am,” Dick laughs and squeezes Tim’s hand. “And I still have to get out of this costume and have a shower and, I don’t know, maybe get some sleep like a normal person.”

“But we aren’t normal,” Tim says, eyes focused on Dick’s.

“No,” Dick concedes. “No we’re not.” He lets go of Tim’s hand and turns around, pressing his back to the counter between Tim’s legs. “Come on.”

Tim writes _I love you_ with his finger onto Dick’s back in a fit of fleeting stupidity and absentmindedness, and is glad when Dick misses it entirely. His heart camps out in his throat, making a big mess of everything, and Tim tries to swallow it back down. He slides off the counter and wraps his legs around Dick’s waist and his arms around his neck, holding on tight enough so he won’t fall, but making sure not to choke Dick in the meantime. He presses his chest against Dick’s back.

“So what are we watching?” Dick asks, grabbing onto Tim’s legs to anchor him there as he makes his way to the living room.

Tim has no idea. At all. But he has to think of something quickly or Dick will probably try to pull the good big brother act and put him to bed. “Um, Shrek?”

Tim watches Dick’s jaw move and shift into a smile. “Sounds good.”

The rest of the distance to the living room is walked in silence, which is both pleasant and also completely horrifying. Too much opportunity to pay attention to the stretching and flexing of the muscles in Dick’s back and his feet falling on the ground at almost exactly half the speed of Tim’s increasingly rapid heartbeat. Too much opportunity to think, in general.

And then when they finally make it to the living room, Dick decides the easiest way to get Tim onto the couch is to kind of just sit down and temporarily squish Tim into the cushions. He sits there a moment, asks Tim why he’s not putting the movie in, chuckles, and then finally goes to put it in himself. Tim takes a moment to reinflate.

They only get about thirty seconds into the movie before Dick cuddles up beside Tim and wraps his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Timmy,” he singsongs.

“Probably should have let you get in the shower,” Tim admits. Even the costume is sticky. Tim probably doesn’t want to know.

Dick prods a finger into Tim’s side. “You think? I could go now, if you want. Or you can put up with it. Or you can join me.”

Tim looks for a grin, a smirk, any sign that Dick is kidding, but he doesn’t find it. “Okay,” he says experimentally. He can’t figure this one out without a bit more input from the other party.

But Dick just stands up, holds out his hands for Tim to grab onto, and then hoists him up.

And Tim follows him.

God, what is going on.

They forgot to pause the movie.

 

There is no way this is going to work. Tim’s brain has kicked into overdrive and how could he possibly just strip down and jump in the shower with Dick like it’s no big deal? Dick, on the other hand, has his costume off in seconds and tosses it onto the floor with abandon. He turns the water on and puts a hand out to test it before stepping in. Meanwhile Tim is just standing there awkwardly, which makes it so much worse. Can’t show this is getting to him. Have to get undressed quickly before—

“You going to come in, or are you just going to stand there and watch me? Either way is fine by me, but…” he flashes Tim a wink over his shoulder and Tim just thinks, fuck.

He pulls his t-shirt off first, hastily so he can better ignore the fact that his hands are shaking, and then he runs his hands through his hair. He has to get out of this situation, like, five minutes ago. He considers suddenly remembering something, pretending he heard his phone, even just plain out _running_ , but before he gets a chance, Dick wraps a dripping hand around Tim’s forearm and drags him into the shower. And he’s still got his track pants on.

The water is way too hot and Tim’s skin tingles all over. He tries closing his eyes for a second so he doesn’t have to look at Dick, but even then he can see him so he opens them again, and just as Dick decides it’s time to shampoo Tim’s hair.

“Dick— I—” Tim pauses, breathes. “I still have pants on.”

Dick looks down and then slowly drags his eyes back up. Tim does his best to suppress a shiver. “Yes,” Dick says, “I know.” He grins and continues to massage the shampoo into Tim’s scalp, run his fingers through Tim’s hair, and there is no safe place to look anymore. Dick is standing so close, essentially pinning him against the cold tiles of the wall and all Tim can do is stand there and stare as the shampoo runs from his hair and down his chest and soaks into his pants. He really should take them off — they’re soapy and heavy and wholly inappropriate showerwear — but he can’t move.

Dick’s hands pause. He stops some of the shampoo from running into Tim’s eyes with a gentle wipe of his forehead, and then he brings both hands down to rest at Tim’s nape. He hesitates, which Tim doesn’t really understand, and he wishes Dick would just get back to it, because if Dick stands there any longer with his bangs dripping into his eyes, water spraying down his back, looking at Tim _like that_ , then Tim thinks his heart might honestly burst.

“Can I—” Dick starts, but doesn’t finish. He blinks a few times, caught between asking and just doing and he speaks again. “Can I kiss you?”

Tim flushes bright red. Anticipating is so much worse. Why did he have to ask? And now he has to reply but he can’t get any words out. He doesn’t know what he’d say if he could.

Dick begins to back away then, opening his mouth to speak and Tim can all but see the apology on the tip of his tongue and oh god oh god fuck okay just go with it—

“Yes,” he manages to force out. Yes, because, well. He wants to. He really wants to. And he’s thought about this. Before. But he didn’t think that. That.

He lets Dick kiss him then, lets him press wet lips to his as his head falls back against the tiles. Fuck. _Fuck_. He closes his eyes and breathes in and he can feel Dick smile against his lips before Tim gives in and opens his mouth, clenching his fists as Dick’s tongue slides over his, his teeth, the roof of his mouth, thumbs rubbing small circles on the sides of his neck.

“Fuck, Tim,” Dick says, pulling back to breathe. “ _Tim_.”

Yeah, Tim thinks. Basically.

Dick slaps on a lopsided grin before sloppily pressing his lips to Tim’s once more, and then trails his hands over Tim’s chest and down to the waistband of his pants. He grips them. “Probably should get rid of these,” he says almost breathlessly.

Tim’s head is spinning. He’s trying _so hard_ to process everything that’s going on, but nothing is working. “Mmnn,” he replies, and Dick doesn’t wait a second longer to tug down his pants and his boxers in one swift movement. God, Tim’s skin is burning _everywhere_. He’s so exposed now and he has nothing to hide behind anymore and he’s so obviously hard and Dick is just staring at him and hang on okay wait, that kind of looks like a faint splash of red across Dick’s cheeks. Tim’s heart pounds against his ribcage.

“Christ, Tim,” Dick laughs and turns his head down, “When did you get so hot?”

He drops to his knees and plants a kiss just below Tim’s navel and doesn’t wait for an okay this time. He wraps his fist around the base of Tim’s cock and presses his tongue against the head and Tim sinks his teeth into the heel of his palm. This is not- this is—

Dick takes him fully in his mouth, running his tongue along the underside of Tim’s cock and looking up at him through his hair with those damn blue eyes. How do people do this? How is anyone supposed to deal with this? Dick’s _mouth_ is on him — his mouth which has been anywhere and _everywhere_ , and Tim can’t even begin to figure out what to do with his hands let alone anything else. Dick reaches up then, like clockwork, and takes Tim’s hand, guiding it towards his hair, humming around Tim’s cock. Fuck. Tim’s legs feel weak and he grabs a fistful of Dick’s hair, looking for any kind of support.

“Better?” Dick asks, pulling back just enough to speak, and when Tim shakily nods, he licks the tip and then goes back down, a hand on his own cock now, moving in time.

Tim kind of wishes he could do something, but he’s stuck up here, and god knows he would just make a mess of things if he could. Dick shifts his other hand to grip tightly onto Tim’s hip and takes him in deeper.

It doesn’t take much more — Dick’s unblinking gaze, the hot water dripping down his face onto his lips as he sucks Tim off, the occasional hitches in his movement when Tim can actually see that Dick is close too and just knowing that is enough to—

“Dick, I’m— fuck-” he says around his hand, and Dick makes a small sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat before Tim is coming, hips trying to jerk forward but Dick’s fingers press harder into his hip and hold him there.

He waits until Tim is done before he pulls back, licking his lips, and Tim slumps to the ground, sitting on his track pants that are still pooled at his feet.

“Fuck,” he says again, and leans forward to wrap a hand around Dick’s to help him finish off. Tim presses their foreheads together, and Dick breathes in sharply as he comes over both of their hands and pecks Tim on the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, fuck.” Dick grins and closes his eyes, leaning back under the water, neck stretched out, and Tim will probably never get over how gorgeous he is.

“You do this often?” Tim asks jokingly, twisting their sticky fingers together.

“What,” Dick says, pulling his head out of the water to speak, “You mean seduce you, little brother? Been trying to do that for years.”

Tim’s heart somersaults as Dick grins at him, and Tim yanks him forward and kisses him proper, never mind where that mouth has just been.

“You’ve still got shampoo all through your hair,” Dick laughs into his lips, “Just in case you’d forgotten.”

Oh yeah. Right. Shower.

 

The movie is nearly over when they finally come back to it, and it’s getting light as well, which means it really wouldn’t be appropriate to go back to the beginning and watch it. But they do anyway.

The opening credits play through as Dick squishes up next to Tim again and wraps his arms all around him, except now Tim is kind of permanently burning bright red and Dick keeps grinning at him and planting stupid little kisses on his cheek and calling him Tim and Timmy and Timbo and little brother and Tim wants to tell him to shut up but his heart keeps doing all these flips and stopping him. Dick nuzzles his neck and kisses it too. Dick’s hair is still damp and it tickles a little.

“Just so you know, I’m never letting go of you,” Dick tells him, and Tim thinks well, that’s okay. He could get used to that.


End file.
